


Not As Easy As It Looks

by MissSusanVance



Series: I Dream of Sansa Series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Bad Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Sweetness, i dream of sansa snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSusanVance/pseuds/MissSusanVance
Summary: A fluffy little one shot from the "I Dream of Sansa" verse.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts), [my stansa peeps](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+stansa+peeps), [Janina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/gifts).



> Hey all! i wanted to write a fluffy little story as a pick me up after this awful week. This one goes out to all of you...it's going to be ok. Gold star to whoever can find the phrase from a classic Hollywood movie in the story!

For Sansa, this new life in a modern world often felt like a carefree childhood she’d really never had. As the only child and heir of the warden of the North, she’d been taught since childhood the proper way to address lords, knights and vassals according to their rank. She’d been schooled how to run a great keep, with hundreds of inhabitants to provide for, not only during the easy summer months, but during the terrible winters as well. This didn’t leave a lot of time for playing and fun. Compared to a child of the small folk, of course she realized that her circumstances were wonderful and the level of privilege she had enjoyed; but she had never felt as though she could truly be herself, heedless of whose eyes might be watching and judging her.

 

Now, living as what appeared to be a normal young woman to the citizens of Kings Landing, she felt like she could relax and do just as she pleased. After about a month, during which Stannis had stressed the importance of hiding her genie abilities, and where he had taught her modern societal norms of behavior, he began taking her for outings in the city. He insisted that she call him by his name, not “Master”. After several more weeks, he’d trusted her to be on her own. He’d bought her a Metro pass so she could go places without blinking herself there, and by now Sansa felt comfortable travelling around the neighborhood outside of Stannis’s apartment. The baristas at the local coffee shop knew her name and her daily order, a latte and a slice of lemon loaf. Workers at the bookstore knew her, too; she came in at least one a week to peruse the magazines. While she enjoyed the fashion magazines, she was also starting to read the ones with essays about current events around the world.

 

She couldn’t express how content she felt in words. Sometimes she’d try to tell Stannis how happy she was in their life together, but he would often wave away her compliments or, when he did accept them, appear to be very doubtful. If she could only get him to come out of his shell, to acknowledge the feelings she had for him and admit to his in return, her life would be perfect. But so far, only taking care of his home, his meals and health was the only thank you that he’d accept.

 

Which is why Sansa had decided to cook a birthday dinner for him; no magic, done with her own two hands. Regarding the fact that she’d never cooked before in her life…. well, she felt confident that she could pull it off. After all, how hard could it be? The chefs on the cooking shows she watched made it look so _easy_.

 

She’d asked Myranda at the bookstore to help her decide what cookbook to buy; there were hundreds of them. Sansa had asked for a classic cookbook, but one where the recipes were easy to follow. While they were looking over their choices, Myranda pulled out one called _The Joy of Cooking_.

 

“This one’s a classic, it’s been in print for decades. Every kitchen has one. Plus the recipes are all laid out in a way that’s easy for a novice cook to follow.”

 

Sansa had been about to take the book out of Myranda’s hand; but as she looked at the shelves, another book caught her eye.

 

“What’s this one? Sansa picked up a red and white volume.

 

“Um, I think that’s a little too advanced for you just now” said Myranda. “ _Mastering the Art of French Cooking_ is a definitely a classic, but it’s a little involved for a newbie.”

 

Myranda tried for a while to dissuade Sansa from her choice, but Sansa eventually won out. She knew Stannis liked French food; on one occasion, he’d taken her to a beautiful place called Le Bec Fin, and she could see how much he’d enjoyed the meal. Sansa wanted to make this birthday as special for him as possible.

 

And so here she was in Stannis’s beautiful kitchen, attempting to make roasted chicken, artichokes braised with wine and herbs and baba au rhum.

 

There were a lot of steps to roasting the chicken, but they didn’t seem _too_ difficult. Sansa started out strong, but she burned her forearm on the stove interior while trying to baste the chicken. Afterwards the liquid fat from the roasting pan splashed onto her oven mitt and soaked through, singeing her hand; after that she shoved the pan back in the oven and closed the door – maybe a little harder than necessary.   _I’m sure it’ll be fine without all the basting._

The artichokes were more difficult. The cutting, the multiple pots of boiling water…. Sansa was beginning to think she had bitten off more than she could chew.

 

The cake was the worst. Sansa had never seen powdered yeast before; after reading that the water had to be warm to activate it, she took some of the boiling water from one of the four pots on the stove. _Why not? It would save some time,_ she thought.

 

An hour later, the kitchen looked like a tornado had touched down there. Flour dusted the countertops and floor; raw cake batter lay in globs on the counter and in some spots dripped onto the cabinets, while a tube pan contained a smoking black mass of what was supposed to be a lovely cake; one of the pans on the stove had boiled dry, and she’d had to throw it into the sink, while the smoke detectors screamed throughout the kitchen. The chicken at least was all right, she thought. The skin was a lovely golden brown color, and it smelled divine. But when she cut along the breast to make sure it was done, the flesh inside was pink.

 

When Stannis arrived home soon after, he found Sansa sitting on the kitchen floor crying tears of frustration.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, wiping a finger through one of the flour piles on the counter. “What happened here?” He crossed to her and bent down to her level, stroking a loose hair out of her face.

 

“I wanted to make you a birthday dinner” she sighed. “No magic, just by myself, like a normal woman would. And then –“ she gestured around the destroyed kitchen “this.”

 

“Sansa,” Stannis said, touched despite himself. What was it about this woman that worked its way through all of his defenses? He took her hand, lifted her from the floor and guided her to the table. She grabbed at his hand and held tight to it when he tried to pull it away. “You don’t need to do all this. It’s not necessary.”

 

“Of course it is!” Sansa said. “You’ve done so much for me; you gave me a home, you take care of me, you’ve done so much. I wanted to show you –“ here she paused; she’d almost said _I want to show you how much I love you_ , but she knew he wasn’t ready to hear that. And after all, she did have her pride. “I wanted to show you how grateful I am.”

 

Stannis looked at her, at this lovely woman who meant far too much to him already. “You don’t need to do all this, Sansa, because I know you appreciate my help. And I – I appreciate you.”   Stannis finished, cursing his little stutter.

 

“Oh,” Sansa sighed, and threw herself at Stannis, hugging him tight. “You’re such a wonderful man, Master – I mean Stannis!”

 

Stannis awkwardly patted her shoulders, subtly trying to keep from holding her too close and enjoying the embrace…too much. “Why don’t we go out to eat? We can go to that Thai restaurant you like.” Stannis didn’t care too much for Thai, but Sansa loved it; she’d said if she could she’d eat it every day.

 

“Are you sure? I know you don’t like it really.”

 

“Of course. Now if you would please- “ Stannis gestured to the kitchen/disaster area.

 

“Oh! Of course!” Sansa blinked, and the kitchen was back to its usual pristine condition. “I’ll get my coat!”

 

Stannis watched Sansa as she hurried away. In all his life he’d never met a woman who was as beautiful inside as she was outside. To make her happy, he just might consider eating Thai food every night.

 

 

 


End file.
